


Cold Outside, Warm Inside

by fractalficlets (fractalgeometry)



Series: Hugtober 2020 [28]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Banter, Hugs, M/M, Other, Snow, Snow Angels, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27266731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry/pseuds/fractalficlets
Summary: Snow angels are confusing to Aziraphale. Why would onelie downin the cold, wet snow? Still, his favorite human child seems to think it's fun, and there's a lot he'll try for this child.Turns out playing in the snow can be fun, in the right context.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley & Original Character, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Hugtober 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952887
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Cold Outside, Warm Inside

**Author's Note:**

> This is a version of my initial idea for [Snow Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234073), my ficlet from two days ago. That one did not end up with the ineffables actually making snow angels, because Aziraphale was uncomfortable with the idea. I still quite liked my idea for him actually making a snow angel, though, and so I tried again. This scene, rather than including a random town child, is about Aziraphale, Crowley, and Max, my OC from my (partially) outsider POV series [The Existence (or lack thereof) of Demons and Angels](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774987). In an already-established trust group, I can more easily see Aziraphale (and Crowley) experimenting with odd things like rolling around in the snow. So here you go.
> 
> Side note: Max's character is much more fully fleshed out in the series itself, but this is fine to read as a standalone, with him as just "a child that they know".

“Max, what are you doing?”

The boy looked up from the snowbank he was lying in. “Making a snow angel!” He flailed a few times, then awkwardly picked himself up. “Look!”

Aziraphale’s unnecessary heart skipped a beat. Angel? Had Max somehow found something out about Aziraphale’s true background? Had he- no, Aziraphale saw now what Max was pointing at. The flailing had left an imprint in the snow that looked — somewhat — like a person with wings.

“Oh, very nice,” he said. 

“It’s easy,” Max informed him. “You try!”

“I don’t think my clothes are quite up to it, dear.”

“Oh, come on, Aziraphale,” Crowley’s voice said from behind him. “I’m sure your clothes will be just fine.”

Aziraphale turned and made eye contact with his friend. “Is that a promise?”

“‘Course.”

Aziraphale hesitantly sat down in the snow. The cold seeped instantly through his coat, though not in an entirely unpleasant way. 

“Now lie down,” Max commanded.

Aziraphale did.

“Wave your arms and legs.”

Feeling increasingly silly, Aziraphale did so.

“There!” Max sounded pleased. “Now get up and you can see it.”

Aziraphale cautiously lifted himself from the snow, ending up kneeling just below his...snow angel. It wasn’t as neat as Max’s, but recognizably came from the same stock. How interesting.

“See?” Crowley asked. “Wasn’t that nice?”

Aziraphale turned on him. “Your turn, my dear!” 

Crowley’s eyes widened abruptly. “I- what- I don’t think-”

“Aw, come on, Crowley!” Max pleaded. “Just one! Then there’ll be one from all of us!”

“Angels- they’re not really- I don’t-”

“Make a snow demon, then,” Aziraphale suggested.

Max’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! With horns!”

Crowley looked between them, and a wry, affectionate smile came to his face. “Fine! Fine. Why not.”

Max whooped. “Right here! With ours.”

Crowley slowly dropped down into the snow. “It’s  _ cold,” _ he complained. 

“We can go make cocoa after,” Aziraphale promised.

_ “Yes!” _ Max said happily.

Crowley waved his arms. “I feel stupid,” he said.

“You don’t look it,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley climbed slowly out of the indent he’d made. “That doesn’t look  _ anything _ like a demon.”

“I’ll fix it,” Max promised, and leaned down to draw several curved lines on top of the snow demon’s head.

Crowley shuffled sideways until he could lean against Aziraphale. “Now  _ I’m _ cold,” he murmured.

Aziraphale sat back in the snow and wrapped his arms around Crowley. “Better?”

Crowley climbed halfway into Aziraphale’s lap, dusting snow lightly over both of them. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale smiled. The chill of the snow was sinking into him, but the air was bright, his demon was in his lap, and his favorite human was only a few feet away, drawing horns on Crowley’s snow art. 

There seemed to be something to this “snow angel” thing after all.


End file.
